Chapter Text
If not for World Religion Studies, Darcy thought she might just rip her hair out and claim insanity to avoid coming to school.
She hated the uniform (grey shirt, black pants or black and silver pleated skirt.)
She hated that she was required to take, what was essentially, Bible Class at least once per each academic year.
She hated that there was more Catholic iconography on the walls than anything else. (How many pictures of Jesus hanging bloody on a cross does a single hallway need?!)
In a nutshell, she hated that she was being forced to attend a private Catholic high school. It was her parents' final requirement if they were going to pay for her college education.
If Darcy didn't so desperately want to attend Culver, she would have told them to shove it and let her attend public school with the rest of her friends.
Other than her lunch periods, World Religion Studies was the only redeemable part of the school.
Their cafeteria was top notch, with top tier lunch options, and vending machines with a ton more options than what you would find on the street.
World Religion Studies was, for lack of a better word, fascinating. Just like science classes, they acknowledged that there was more established in the world than just "God went BOOM, and then there was a man and he used his ribs to make a woman."
With the semester nearing the halfway point, they'd already covered Hebrew and Islam. Now they were branching over to historical religion, and touching on the gods that were now considered mythological. Greek, Rome, Egypt, Mayan and Norse Gods. There were multiple chapters in their textbooks about all of them, and Darcy had found them really engrossing.
"I'm going to come around with this Viking helmet, and I want you to pick a name out. That name will be your God assignment. I want you to learn everything about them, build them a shrine, and on Oct 31st, I want you to sell me your god. Tell me everything about them, and make me a believer, a worshipper!" Mr. Hank was working himself into an excited fervor as he stepped up to the front row of desks with his Viking helmet.
The class picked up on the excitement, and began whispering amongst each other about which god they wanted. Darcy heard some of the boys talk about getting Ares, or Apollo. A couple of the girls that sat in front of Darcy giggled about getting Aphrodite, and praying to the goddess for their crushes to notice them.
Darcy didn't care which god she got, because all the options would be equally fun to explore.
Since she'd taken possession of the desk in the back left hand corner, she wasn't surprised when Mr. Hank got to her last. Rather than have her reach inside the helmet for the last piece of paper, he pulled it out and offered it to her. She couldn't be sure, but the glimmer in Mr. Hank's eyes gave her a sense of something being slightly off-kilter. Not in the sense that he needed medication, but more like he knew a secret and really wanted to tell her.
She plucked the paper from him, and read the name aloud, "Loki?...Didn't he have sex with a horse?"
Mr. Hank guffawed, and the girls in front of her looked mortified.
"The myth states he gave birth to Slepneir, the fastest horse in all the realms, which Odin rides upon. But I'm sure you'll find more details about that as you do your research." Mr. Hank left it at that, and went back to the front of the class, to expand on the assignment.
Darcy tuned him out, and opened her textbook to the section dedicated to Loki.
There was a painting on the first page, showing a red haired, wickedly grinning man with a wolf at his feet and a falcon perched on his shoulder. The chapter title read "Loki: Norse God of Trickery and Lies."
Running her finger over his red hair Darcy muttered to the printed image, "Trickery and Lies huh? You sir, sound like my kind of God."
~~~~~~
Darcy decided to take the literal route with the assignment, and make an honest to goodness shrine to her assigned God.
It was a slow and expensive process, but thanks to her 'school purposes only' credit card, she was able to get what she needed. Which turned out to be mistletoe (it was early October, so it was harder to find,) lavender (she went a bit nuts and bought in bulk) cinnamon heart candy (again, wrong time of year, but this one kid in her school had hoards of it and was convinced to sell.) Her favorite shopping she did was for the toy boats. Loki had a thing for boats, and since she wasn't going to spend her entire time slot making a single model boat, she went to the toy store and bought as many toy boats as possible. He also had a symbolism thing with spiders, so she picked up some rubber ones.
In the end her shrine was a pyramid of toy boats built around a large lavender candle. She'd broken the mistletoe into pieces and glued them around the outside of the candle's jar. All the boats had the candy hearts, dried lavender, and spiders sprinkled or glued to their decks.
The only reason her parents weren't throwing a fit about her doing "devil worship" in their house, was that this looked so ridiculous, they couldn't believe it was for actual worship. (Darcy had also requested a write up of the assignment from Mr. Hank to give to her parents.)
Sitting back on her bed, Darcy admired her handiwork, "If I were a god, and someone made me a shrine like this, I'd be hella happy."
She recalled her classmates giggling about sending prayers to Aphrodite.
She'd always gone through the motions of praying when her family, and the school demanded it of her, but she'd never meant it. Why put your heart into something you didn't believe in?
But with her shrine, and all the things she'd learned about Loki in her mind, she didn't see any harm in it. She snorted to herself, "Nothing ever bad happened from reading a book...I need to watch that movie again."
Refocusing, she looked over to her bedside clock. Her shrine crafting had taken her to 11:30pm. Her parents would be asleep, and unless they'd planted a recording device in her room, she felt pretty secure in giving it a whirl.
She lit the lavender candle and let it burn just long enough to melt some wax, putting out the aroma of lavender and smoke from the extinguished candle wick. Closing her eyes and breathing it in, she did as she normally did, and spoke the first thing that came to mind, "I dedicate this piece of beautiful shrine work to you Loki. I hope you enjoy the boats, and the spiders. I've never been on a boat, and spiders have learned to leave me the fuck alone. Regardless if you can hear me or not, I'll try and keep this shrine in one piece for you as long as possible....Ok that's all."
'A little rough, and far too loud, but I do commend you mortal.'
Darcy sprang to her feet, whacking her knee on the edge of her desk and sending her nearly sprawling to the floor. She had to grab onto her desk to keep balanced. Her knee stung bad enough that her eyes began to water.
She blinked hard against the moisture blurring her vision and tried to scan the expanse of her room, "Who's there?"
'You're the one that invited me, surely you do not need me to name myself.'
Whoever was talking to her, they were male, and rather...posh.
Without looking, she grabbed hold of the first thing her hand came into contact with on her desk. Holding it in front of her (and internally groaning at seeing it was her ruler) Darcy shuffled towards the nearest wall and put it to her back.
There was no one in the room, no shadows she couldn’t explain, and her windows were are all locked down.
‘Please tell me your species has evolved to the point where you can put two and two together.’
The amount of impatience and exasperation in the voice made Darcy want to slap the owner.
She had a guess as to who was speaking, but she was uncertain if she wanted it to be the correct guess, “First off: Rude. Secondly, last time I checked, Loki was a MYTHICAL god!”
‘Given that we’ve pulled away from Midgard for so long, I’m not surprised that we’ve fallen into that category. But lucky little you, I always keep an ear out for worship.’
Dary wasn’t 100% convinced she was talking to a legit god. Shuffling over to her bed, she used the ruler to lift the edge of her comforter so she could peer under the bed. She noted some dust bunnies, some socks, and her shoebox of old photos. There was no hidden speaker, or other type of whacky audio device that she could spot.
She didn’t know what Midgard was, maybe their term for the mortal realm? “Yea, lucky me, I get to have a nervous breakdown and hear voices in my head. I’m either going to be sent to the psych ward, or my parents will call in a priest to perform an exorcism.”
‘I can assure you, you are not losing your sanity. Here, a token of proof.’
Something akin to a wave of golden, green ripple appeared on the top boat on her shrine. When it faded, she could see the edge of something gold was left behind. She inched closer and craned her neck to get a better look.
It looked to be a necklace of some sort. The gold she’d seen was part of the necklace’s main piece. The side profile of a snake baring its fangs, as the rest of its body was coiled around an emerald the size of Darcy’s thumbnail.
Darcy didn’t know anything about jewelry, gold, or precious gems, but she had a sinking feeling that she was looking at real gold and a legit emerald.
She reached with the ruler, and to her growing concern, felt it connect with the necklace.
It was real. The real gold, real emerald necklace, was real real. As in, it had just been teleported magically into the toy boat, into her room.
Darcy dropped the ruler and sat down hard on the side of her bed, “I’m gonna need a minute.”
‘Don’t make me wait too long. I’m rather bored at the moment, and you’ve provided me with the perfect distraction.’
Darcy took off her glasses and rubbed at her face. She put her glasses back on, and...yup. Gold snake necklace was still there.
Well, she’d summoned him (somehow?!), she may as well make the most of it, “Okay...You’re real, I’ll roll with that. Hard to argue with a piece of bling like that. I’m not sure how much distraction I’m going to be for you though. I really just did that little prayer out of curiosity.”
‘I had assumed as much given your reaction. And I can reassure you, you are far more entertaining than my current company.’
Darcy got up from the bed and went to the shrine. Hesitantly, she reached out and touched the gold snake. Worry and curiosity had a brief battle in her head when she felt a gentle warmth against her fingertips.
“Your current company is probably more gods right? Thor, Sif, Odin, the whole Brady Bunch of Norse mythology?”
‘You’re going to have to accept that we are not myths. Annoying as they presently are, they are just as real as myself.’
Curiosity winning out, she picked up the snake and noticed the snake’s eye was a hole which had a length of soft, brown cord pulled through. Darcy estimated the length would allow the snake to hang low enough to let the snake land on, or in between, her boobs.
“So if I put together a shrine for Thor, and did a little prayer, he’d hear me too?”
‘I don’t recommend doing such a thing. Other than wasting your money, you’ll also be wasting your time. My brother has become so full of himself, he sees no point in allowing the connections.’
At the word ‘connections’ Darcy swore she saw the emerald in the snake glow in its center. If she weren’t so absorbed in rubbing her thumb over the snake’s scale pattern, and enjoying the soft warmth in her hands, she might have dropped it.
She definitely didn’t miss the familiar tinge of spite to the god’s words when saying ‘brother.’ She didn’t have any siblings of her own, but a couple of her friends had sisters that brought out the same level of bitterness.
“Well you’re in luck. I was assigned to do my class project on you, not him. And building this shrine has already got my parents’ Catholic hackles raised as it is.” She went back to her bed and laid down, her eyes glued to the snake in her hands.
‘You’re doing an academic paper on me? It warms the heart to know my name has spread, despite my absence.’
She snorted a laugh, “Dude, you’re considered a myth now, remember? Myths and legends get passed around a lot more these days. And as much as I’d love to just use an interview with you as my paper, I have to do it based on all the information in my textbook, plus the shrine. Which my teacher might keep.”
Darcy thought she felt the snake grow a bit colder in her hands, then suddenly much warmer. ‘Is this thing connected to him?’
‘I loathe to think of the lies and twisted truths your text contains. Well, regardless if your instructor keeps my shrine, so long as you have that token, you’re welcome to continue worshipping me.’
She rolled her eyes, just picturing a red haired man preening out of sight of the others in his vicinity.
“As cool as talking to a god is, I can’t be doing this too often. I wasn’t kidding when I said my parents would perform an exorcism. Even in this day and age, someone talking to a voice in their head is not seen as a good thing.” It was the thought of her parents that tore her attention free of the snake.
Putting it down on the bed next to her she checked the time, “Shiiiiit, how is it this late?” Late was an understatement. Her clock read 2am, which was practically morning!
‘So you’re saying the blessing of my attention is not worth the risk?’
His voice was light and teasing, which somehow eased Darcy’s panic, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m living for this. If you’d been my parents’ God, I would sign myself into the psych ward. The fact that you’re a Norse god, which my parents would consider to be Satanic worship, means I get to hold the ultimate middle finger over their heads.”
She didn’t know if he was able to see her while he was talking to her, and didn’t feel inclined to flash her growing goods around. Rather than change out of her clothes and into her PJs, she got under the covers, and resigned herself to sleeping in jeans.
‘Ah, a kindred spirit of rebellion…’
Darcy rolled onto her side and touched her finger to the emerald. It didn’t hold any warmth, but at her touch, she saw that same flicker of a glow. ‘There’s definitely magic in this.’
‘I’ve had a fun thought. One you don’t need to agree to right away. Does your realm still employ clerics?’
Darcy frowned, trying to remember what a cleric was. “Do you mean priests?”
‘Yes and no. They’re the same in their main purpose, but Clerics get to have far more fun.’
“Sorry dude, no clerics here that I can think of. Only priests...I’m not fond of priests.” She tapped the emerald, trying to get it to glow again.
‘Good. Because I don’t want you to be a priest, I want you to be a cleric. MY cleric.’
Her finger froze over the emerald, and slowly withdrew, “Uhhhhh…”
‘Calm yourself, I did say you could think about it. As previously stated, I’m often bored...or annoyed, with my present and persistent company. Speaking with you has been...refreshing, to say the least. It would be a shame to lose this connection so quickly.’
“I don’t know if you’re able to see me, with this whole, mortal-prays-to-god connection, but I’m a teenager. A teenager that has no intention of joining a convent or some shit.” It was bad enough having her parents shoving their religious propaganda down her throat, she wasn’t going to take it from a god that hasn’t been worshipped in centuries.
Somehow she felt Loki roll his eyes before he spoke, ‘I am aware of your youth. I can’t see you in earnest, but I have a vague sense of you. I am not asking you to swear into a life of celibacy or such nonsense. As my cleric you will have only three responsibilities. One: Commit the occasional prank in my name, I do so love to see some creativity. Two: Marks your conquests in my name. Since you’re no longer in an era of savage wars, I’ll leave it to your imagination on the term of ‘conquest.’ I’m flexible that way. Three: I expect you to learn a means of self defense.’
Darcy didn’t see anything wrong with the first two conditions, they made plenty of sense given everything she’d learned about him. That last one though, “Why do I need to learn how to fight?”
‘All proper clerics learn self-defense, as they would travel the world to spread the name of their god and were expected to protect themselves. I’ve no expectation of you to do the same, but I will not have my first cleric in centuries be killed by any idiot with a dull blade.’
Darcy already had a story to tell her parents to sell them on the idea, then she caught herself. She was already planning things as if she’d accepted this deal.
That’s what this was, a deal. Deals were meant to benefit both sides, and so far all she’d heard was what she would be doing for him.
“And what exactly do I get out of being a cleric for the god of trickery and lies?” She squinted up at her ceiling, since that seemed to make the most sense.
She heard him laugh, ‘Good girl. I would have cut this connection if you hadn’t caught that. If you agree to be my cleric, then I’ll be able to grant you a fraction of my power and abilities. In your ancient times, clerics would use such gifts to save villages from monsters and raiders.’
Darcy’s pulse skipped. Power? As in magic? (She also made a mental note that MONSTERS WERE APPARENTLY ALSO A THING?!)
She’d been like most other kids and had dreamed of having magic abilities. Flying, smashing through walls, laser beam eyes. All the works that her superheroes in the comics had.
Biting her bottom lip, she asked, “How do I know you’re not trying to trick me? Where I agree to this, and do everything you want, and you turn around and say ‘I never said WHEN I would grant you magic, mwahahha!’ “
He scoffed, ‘The day I do such a ridiculous laugh, I will put my own head under Thor’s hammer. And you need not worry about being deceived on this. Yggdrasil enforces these contracts. Should I attempt to withhold my power, it would sever the connection and render me powerless all together.’
She could hear the respect and slight fear he held for the world tree (she did her Norse research, thank you very much.) She took that as evidence of truth to what he was saying. It also meant she needed to add Yggdrasil to her growing list of research topics.
‘Pranks in his name, conquests in his name, and self defense. I guess he’s not really asking for too much.’
She picked up the amulet and held it over her face by the cord. The emerald had a little glowing ball flickering at its center. 100%, definitely magic.
“One quick question, and then I’ll give you my answer. And no the answer doesn’t determine my decision.”
‘Ask your question.’
“Do you really have red hair?”
He laughed again, ‘That portrait is still around I take it? No mortal girl, I do not have red hair. That is in fact, an image of Thor after my handiwork. The depiction was such a contrast to my brother’s usual appearance, that I couldn’t resist telling the artist it was me. I will show who I am one day, should you choose to serve me.’
She found herself smiling, cause that sounded like a legendary level prank.
Darcy ran her thumb over the snake’s scales, “Alright. I’ll do it. You’ve got yourself a cleric.”
She didn’t hear a response, which she found more concerning than if he’d made a big jovial announcement.
The flickering glow in the emerald became steady, then brighter, and brighter. When it shone as strong as a flashlight Darcy dropped it, and covered her eyes.
The lingering smell of lavender in the air became thicker, and a brisk breeze brushed against her skin, leaving a goosebumps in its wake.
In the darkness behind her eyelids she could almost see him. Lithe, dressed in emerald green armor with gold and coal black accents. His face was shadowed, save for his pleased smile.
He snapped his fingers, and his image was gone. Sleep fell onto her heavy and sudden, forcing her down into bed and into dreams of a new voyage upon a Viking ship.